"Wes Anderson Inspired Still Life" - Randi Butler.2014
Anonymous said: Top 5 butts
omg this is a very tedious question is there a scale or a way of judging this (IDRIS ELBA. NO NEED FOR A TOP FIVE)
"oh and for the record, I’m not a guy. I’m a man"
"pick up on social cues, put your coat on"
okay i’m watching mindy now and i did not laugh very hard for the first like 10 mins and i realized it’s because there’s not enough peter i love peter so much SO MUCH
said: top five things you love about yourself!
- i’m pretty decent at picking out an outfit that looks decent (thank you mom)
- i am impeccably current when it comes to film/music/tv based culture
- i speak considerably well in front of others
- i have large lips that hold lipstick pretty well
- i write pretty well, i think.
- french vanilla :P
- cookies and cream omnomnomnomnomnom
- vanilla bean (i’m basic)
- rainbow sherbet? idk
(this was ridiculously difficult, just to let you know)
- It’s a funny thing about the modern world. You hear girls in the toilets of clubs saying, “Yeah, he fucked off and left me. He didn’t love me. He just couldn’t dealwith love. He was too fucked up to know how to love me.” Now, how did that happen? What was it about this unlovable century that convinced us we were, despite everything, eminently lovable as a people, as a species? What made us think that anyone who fails to love us is damaged, lacking, malfunctioning in some way? And particularly if they replace us with a god, or a weeping madonna, or the face of Christ in a ciabatta roll—-then we call them crazy. Deluded. Regressive. We are so convinced of the goodness of ourselves, and the goodness of our love, we cannot bear to believe that there might be something more worthy of love than us, more worthy of worship. Greeting cards routinely tell us everybody deserves love. No. Everybody deserves clean water. Not everybody deserves love all the time.
- Zadie Smith, White Teeth
- Before all hope died I used to have this stupid dream that shit could be saved, that we would be in bed together like the old times, ith the fan on, the smoke from our weed drifting above us, and I’d finally try to say words that could have saved us.
_____ _____ _____.
But before I can shape the vowels I wake up. My face is wet, and that’s how you know it’s never going to come true.
Junot Diaz, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao
- I don’t want just words. If that’s all you have for me, you better go.
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Beautiful and the Damned
- Many stories matter. Stories have been used to dispossess and to malign. But stories can also be used to empower, and to humanize. Stories can break the dignity of a people. But stories can also repair that broken dignity.
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
- Don’t lies eventually lead to the truth? And don’t all my stories, true or false, tend toward the same conclusion? Don’t they all have the same meaning? So what does it matter whether they are true or false if, in both cases, they are significant of what I have been and what I am? Sometimes it is easier to see clearly into the liar than into the man who tells the truth. Truth, like light, blinds. Falsehood, on the contrary, is a beautiful twilight that enhances every object.
- Albert Camus, The Fall